|Showing Mom how to do a little Downward Dog.|
This human-triggered avalanche was caused by Dad, aka the absent-minded professor (literally). Mom was off with her pals at the Whispering Pines Writers' Retreat, soaking up lessons about paths to publication, gorging on delicious treats and toasting marshmallows at a pondside bonfire.
Dad was off hiking into avalanche terrain at Tuckerman Ravine on Mount Washington. (Let's not discuss the wisdom of this particular folly, at least not right now. But if you'd like to learn about Saturday's harrowing conditions, which included the advisory "very dangerous avalanche conditions exist; travel in avalanche terrain is not recommended" you may click here. )
Rather than allow me to continue my lounging life at home, Mom arranged for me to be boarded nearby, one night only, at Natick Animal Clinic. Organized as she is, she made the reservation, left detailed instructions for Dad and headed off to the Middle of Nowhere, Rhode Island.
Apparently, her instructions were not detailed enough. Dad brought me instead to my fav place, Southboro Kennels, which was fine with me, except somehow they had no record of my reservation. Because, of course, no such reservation had been made.
Being that I am beloved at Southboro (you might remember I am not received in this gracious manner at every pet hotel), dear Mary found a spot for me. And not just for one night, for two, because Mom couldn't haul it all the way out to Southboro in time to pick me up.
"Don't worry: we'll take care of the Tuck Man," Mary assured Mom, who frantically called from her cabin, through the miracle of cell service.
Thank goodness for my friends at Southboro. I really liked the pampering I received. We all, then, had an eventful weekend. Although Dad was feeling a little bruised from his error, as well as the extreme conditions through which he put his body, no one was injured. That's a good thing.